The Problem with Hipsters

After falling for a dickhead with a moustache just last week, I’ve decided the problem with hipsters is perfectly summed up by that beautiful lyricist Jarvis Cocker.

Last month in Paris I read his lyrics to Common People as part of a book, and his words hit me deep. I just wish I’d remembered them last week. Still, without further ado, I present to you the most prescient lyrics in the world?

She came from Greece she had a thirst for knowledge
She studied sculpture at St Martin’s college
That’s where I
Caught her eye

She told me that her Dad was loaded
I said ‘In that case I’ll have rum and coca-cola.’
She said ‘Fine,’

And then in thirty seconds time she said

“I want to live like common people
I want to do whatever common people do
I want to sleep with common people
I want to sleep with common people like you.”

Oh what else could I do?
I said ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

I took her to a supermarket
I don’t know why, but I had to start it somewhere
So it started there
I said “Pretend you’ve got no money.”
But she just laughed an said “Oh you’re so funny.”
I said “Yeah?
Well I can’t see anyone else smiling in here

Are you sure you want to live like common people
You want to see whatever common people see
You want to sleep with common people
You want to sleep with common people like me?

But she didn’t understand
She just smiled and held my hand

Rent a flat above a shopCut your hair and get a jobSmoke some fags and play some pool
Pretend you never went to school
But still you’ll never get it right
`cos when you’re laid in bed at night
Watching roaches climb the wall
If you called your dad he could stop it all yeah

You’ll never live like common people
You’ll never do what ever common people do
You’ll never fail like common people
You’ll never watch your life slide out of view

And then dance, and drink, and screw
Because there’s nothing else to do

Sing along with the common people
Sing along and it might just get you throughLaugh along with the common people
Laugh along even though they’re laughing at you
And the stupid things that you do
Because you think that poor is cool.

Like a dog lying in a corner
They will bite you and never warn you
Look out.

They’ll tear your insides out

`cos everybody hates a tourist
Especially one who thinks it’s all such a laugh
Yeah and the chip stain and grease will come out in the bath

You will never understand
How it feels to live your life
With no meaning or control
And with nowhere left to go
You are amazed that they exist
And they burn so bright whilst you can only wonder why.

Rent a flat above a shop
Cut your hair and get a job
Smoke some fags and play some pool
Pretend you never went to school
But still you’ll never get it right
`cos when you’re laid in bed at night
Watching …. roaches climb the wall
If you called your Dad he could stop it all, Yeah.

Never live like common people
Never do what common people do
Never fail like common people
Never watch your life slide out of view

And then dance, and drink, and screw
Because there’s nothing else to do

I want to live with common people like you.

—

This is England, Scotland, everywhere? We’re all the same, probably. Common People is now seventeen years old and it’s still just as good.